Anna's POV
I peered out the window of the Olympus Club's third-floor rest room, assessing the situation. While we were undeniably high up, I noticed a decorative terrace jutting out between the first and second floors. That buffer might just make the jump survivable instead of suicidal. But I couldn't possibly leap out wearing only a towel —that would create an even more impossible-to-explain scenario than being discovered with Jack.
I turned back to find Jack still standing there, seemingly transfixed. His gaze lingered on my legs, an almost palpable heat that made my skin crawl with both anger and discomfort. The irony wasn't lost on me-when we were married, he barely noticed me, but now that we were divorced, here he was, practically devouring me with his eyes.
I snatched up my damp dress from the counter and shot him a glare. "Turn around," I commanded, my voice sharp as glass.
Jack blinked, as if emerging from a trance. "What for?"
